When you think of the word trust, I’m sure a plethora of things come to mind. I could regurgitate a cliché diatribe about any number of dictionary definitions of the word, but ultimately, the human experience we all share is in many ways the only platform to comprehend what that notion truly means.

When hearing or thinking of the word and its correlative sentiment, I would imagine most non-industry folk don’t understand the role that trust plays in a restaurant setting. To many, eating out is simply a means to whet their appetite and satiate their hunger. I, for one, grew up in a home that put little to no value on the experience of hospitality outside the walls of our own home.

That being said, the modern diner has evolved into one that is well educated on not only various culinary offerings, but also the way in which a truly memorable service should be delivered. And, as the general public has become progressively more privy to the workings of restaurant finances - in specific, mark ups on alcohol - the duty of service staff to provide fair and sensible guidance on the matter is beyond paramount. It is within these moments of service that one’s ability to generate trust in a guest is critical.

Allow me to digress with an anecdote.

A few years ago, I was working in a high-volume restaurant in Yorkville. The mantra was simple: affordable food in a trendy but casual setting that offered reasonable service at a reasonable pace. However, despite the food program’s approachable price point, the wine program boasted selections in a range far exceeding that of its edible counterpart. To illustrate, the most expensive entrée was priced at $32, while the most expensive wine (in a traditional 750ml format) was somewhere in the vicinity of $850. Keep in mind, the average bottle of red hitting each table cost in excess of $85, with $120-$250 bottles of wine being commonplace across the dining room.

As a younger part of the management team, I was often designated the in-house wine guy, especially on nights when our sommelier wasn’t present. And in this role, over the course of a year, I learnt how important trust really is when dealing with guests.

On a seemingly mundane evening, a gentleman entered the restaurant and sat at a table waiting for his counterpart. He was dressed lavishly head-to-toe, and the diamond-laced timepiece on his wrist indicated that he was most likely there to spend some good coin. I approached the table cautious but confident.

There was nothing abrasive about the gentleman. In fact, his demeanor was smooth to the touch no matter how abruptly he may have dismissed me to retrieve his bottle from the cellar. Soon after, I was back at the table, decanting his $240 purchase while doing my best to develop some level of rapport with him.

Turns out his name was Angelo, and in the coming weeks, I’d see him two or three times a month. Each time he came in, the service was routine – a short exchange of pleasantries, a nod here, an encouraging laugh there, and most recurring of all, a bottle of Caymus. He would dine with his daughter or wife, for some reason never at the same time, and without fail, Angelo never left a dry decanter. Sometimes, it was a gesture of kindness – a few divine liquid ounces of charity to stow away for the end of my shift. But more often than not, he and his guest simply did not want to or could not finish the wine.

In my personal opinion, Caymus is a gorgeous and opulent red from California riddled with all the notes one would hope for in that style of wine. However, I always believed that at our price point, it failed to provide value for our guests, and to the chagrin and frustration of others, my bias kicked in. I had to wonder: did Angelo not know of other offerings that were comparable in quality but also cost half the price? Was he attached to the brand? And more than anything, was this an opportunity to gain a loyal customer for the foreseeable future?

I tested myself.

The next time I saw Angelo, we commenced our interactions with all the usual practices and courtesies. But this time, I cut him off short as he motioned towards the wine list, placing my hand atop the cover.

“I know you love Caymus, but I wanted to ask if you’d trust me to make a recommendation for something else. It’s half the price, and although different, I think you’d like it.”

He thought it over for a moment, and eventually indulged me. I knew that it was my time to shine. With that I went to the cellar and retrieved one of my favorites , a Rosso Piceno from Marché - sophisticated, mature, delicate and ethereal.

I brought the bottle over and opened it, and my nerves were definitely toiling about in my gut. I poured a taster, and as Angelo swished the wine around in his mouth, I saw that expression that every wine-service professional hopes to see – unadulterated joy, levity, a real eureka moment. Trusting my gut had done me well.

At the end of the meal, he called me over to the table, slyly shaking my hand whilst gracefully sliding a crisp $100 note in my palm.

“I’m giving you what I would have spent,” he said with a labored grin, as on that night, for the first time, the decanter was dry.

Trying new things isn’t everyone’s cup of tea (or glass of wine, if you will), but sometimes, it takes the suggestive and educated prowess of a service pro to act as a platform for not only a new sensory experience, but enjoyment within the parameters of value.

I could have kept on opening bottles of Caymus for Angelo, but I truly believe that putting forth a different recommendation that he ultimately preferred while also saving him money was the right thing to do. From that night onwards, he trusted me, and that trust translated to visits at least once a week from a very desirable customer. Customer retention is the most essential component of restaurant business, and acquiring that trust takes time, patience, honesty and audacity.

Excellence and preference in offerings is inevitably a partisan opinion, open to the interpretation of the masses. Some people love the taste of a $15 magnum of Bambino sparkling while others wont even look at a bottle of wine or spirit that doesn’t fall under the “premium” umbrella. However, it is impossible to deny the fact that we as service professionals have the ability to affect change.

So to all the servers, somms and service pros out there, I implore you to think outside the box and present your guests with value before anything else. I’d rather have a return customer spending $200 a night twice a week than a one off big shot. And furthermore, developing that trust on the basis of value opens the door to being able to present guests with recommendations far exceeding their typical spending allowances. Case in point – two weeks after the Rosso Piceno, Angelo was drinking $600 Sassicaia. He never would have done so if I hadn’t established that trust. And once again, on that night, the decanter was dry.

Here are at GDL we empower and encourage our staff to share their passion for hospitality.

On a Friday night after a busy service I sat around the lush banquette seating of a ritzy Toronto staple alongside my co-workers enjoying some post service libations as was the ritual of our work-week.

Only a modest service assistant at the time, I found myself, uncharacteristically, quiet amongst these giants of hospitality. A server I worked with, let’s call him Lawrence, a fifteen year Toronto veteran boasting tenure at the establishment and several others of note across the city, languished drearily after his fifth or sixth glass of house red, reminiscing on the week and all its tumultuous highs and lows – the inevitable ebb and flow we all know too well.

Another server sat next to him, he too positioned as a career industry professional with accolades far exceeding the qualifications I put on my resumé. As the two sipped their fermented grape juice and shared a lamenting narrative, I thought it was a good time to ask them about my time there.

At this point in my journey, I had close to six years of service experience in a multitude of restaurants, clubs, bars and eateries across the GTA. For a 21-year-old, I was considered a rather well-seasoned veteran amongst my friends. But at this restaurant, after four months of soul-crushing work, I was still only a tadpole in what seemed to be an ever-growing pond of mostly predatorial fish. I took the jump into fine dining on the advice of a mentor-esque figure in my earlier days.

I remember the rhetoric, and although I’m paraphrasing, I recall the sentiment quite clearly –

“Aaron, jump to the top. After you’ve spent time in a restaurant like this, transitioning to any other setting will be like child’s play. You’ll be an expert, and the arduous task of earning your keep will be exponentially easier.”

To be completely honest, from the moment I began this new journey and walked in the building, I knew I wouldn’t fit in unless I seriously adjusted both my demeanor and appearance. I was at that point leaving the hectic and salacious realm of downtown core nightclubs, and the façade would not serve as one I could maintain in this temple of opulence, gaudy excess, and polite snobbery.

My father always said, “Wann in Roem, tust die genaugh wie die Roeme,” a loose German translation of the age old “when in Rome” adage. So every day, I shaved clean, I tucked my shirt in, kept things ironed, and toned down my dialectical idioms to zero at the loudest. I came in early, stayed late, and regardless of my full time class load, still made it an obligation to be the best I could possibly be. Sadly, it almost felt as if my efforts were all in vain.

Fast forward to that evening high atop the city in the lounge of this restaurant. I timidly asked servers Lawrence & Garry: “So gents, how am I doing here?” Although I had been working side by side with these people for months, it was as if we were still strangers. However, not strangers in the layman sense, but more so, I felt like a commoner approaching royalty, Oliver Twist and the keeper at the orphanage.

Lawrence took a big sip of his Malbec and surveyed me head-to-toe, sizing me up as if I were a subject in one of his many studies of the human condition. He looked at me and smiled a contrived smile.

“Here’s the thing Aaron. You’re a hard worker, a bright guy and honestly a pleasure to work with. You know your stuff, and you’re keen to learn.”

With those words, it were as if all the pomp and circumstance I had felt gleaning at me for those four challenging months faded into nothingness. Maybe I was a part of the team. Maybe I was meant to be here. Maybe I did belong.

I was wrong.

In the next breath he said, “With all that in mind, I just can’t help but say it –- you’re a little too rough around the edges. I don’t know what it is, but its something about your look. You look too ‘street’.”

I felt my heart sink. What was I doing wrong? I got a haircut every week. I kept myself tidy, I watched how I spoke to both guests and colleagues. I really tried my behind off from start to finish. What on earth was I missing in this equation? And then it hit me – Nothing.

No matter how hard I tried to be a version of myself that would be welcomed in this coliseum of service, I never would. And I realized that fundamentally, the powers that dictated who did and did not belong, would always brush shoulders with who I was at my core – a fun, jovial and extroverted person who didn’t believe he had to change who he was in order to deliver memorable service.

When I look at myself in the mirror now, a young General Manager at a white tablecloth restaurant, I know I’ve come a long way. But one thing is for certain – that same fun –loving effervescent youngster is still the person that exists at my very core. And when I started this job, I vowed to myself one thing above all else – to welcome anyone into this establishment who truly wanted to be there. Whether donning a bespoke suit or ball gown, or contrarily flip-flops and a trucker hat, I would make all my guests feel welcome in the sanctuary where I work.

And even more importantly -- in conjunction -- I would do everything in my power to encourage and empower my staff to be themselves. Dining out in nice restaurants can often be a daunting thing for people who are under-exposed and inexperienced. However, working in those restaurants is a whole different cup of tea (or glass of wine). I believe strongly in the ideology that managers and owner-operators need to take it upon themselves not to invest in experience, but rather talent. Who are we as industry professionals if we do not demand of ourselves the same openness and appreciation for diversity in our staff as we do in our guests? When you invest in people as they are, you raise the potential to see their best accomplishments, and ultimately the most beneficial results for your business.

So to all of those young proffesionals out there trying their best to make something out of their time in the industry, I say to you, keep pushing, keep punching, keep pouring and be yourself. It may take some time, but someone out there will see you for who you are. It took me some time but I’d like to hope I reside in far less a cage, and far more a home.

Here are at GDL we empower and encourage our staff to share their passion for hospitality.

If you’re hosting dinner for friends and family or it’s date night and you’re looking to make something easy to execute with a wow factor, try one of our GDL classics: The Truite Amandine. This dish has been a staple on our menu and has won the hearts of many. It’s rich, elegant, and simply delicious.

It may be the start of winter, but the fresh flavours complimented by the warmth and homestyle simplicity of this beautiful dish really positions it as an autumn and winter staple on anyone’s menu at home.

Sometimes an entire meal can be based around a bottle of wine. Creating a dish that best compliments the flavours and style of a wine. Sometimes a fortuitous find that inspires you to create a feast.

We like to throw away the old notion for 'red wine with meat, white wine with fish' rule. For anyone that's enjoyed a seared salmon with a delicate yet earthy Pinot Noir or a steak frites with a powerful, aged, Chenin Blanc knows very well the diversity in pairing food and wine together.

Think of wine as another ingredient to the meal. It's the same idea as when you choose the perfect side to complement the main event like the sauce or even the vegetables that you'd serve alongside the dish.

Here are some general tips when pairing wine with food.

*règle d’or / Golden rules

Whatgrows together goes together.

Match the body of the wine to the body of the dish or the richness of the sauce.

Acid in wine is your best friend in pairing. Having a nice crisp and lemony Pinot Grigio with a seabass is like squeezing a lemon on the dish. C’est merveilleux!

Tannins are good for fatty food. Don't believe me? Try a glass of Malbec and some rich cheeses.

Desert wines should be sweeter than deserts otherwise the desert will over power the wine.

Champagne goes well with everything. Seriously... #Champagne! Something about its structured effervescence, clean acidity, and the balance of its fruity component work well with just about anything (especially fried foods). Next time try some fried schnitzel with a glass of bubbly. Of course you can never go wrong with some oysters too.

blancs / Whites

Sauvignon Blanc: You've probably already heard that Sauvignon Blanc pairs well with vegetables like Aparagus, and on fresh-tasting fish dishes as well. Mediterranean seabass or Chilean Bass, Arctic char, or even seared Halibut. Any white, delicate fish will work well with this grape. Sauvignon Blanc's that are oaked or done in a fumé style (California) can withstand oilier fish like Salmon, Tuna, or Trout.

Chardonnay: This is one of the most versatile and sought after varietals producing light and crisp wines, to heavy, oaky, and powerful styles. Lighter styles such as entry level Burgundy and Chablis are perfect for simple fish dishes such as dover sole, baked salmon, and trout. These wines also have high acidity and a pronounced salinity that pairs well with shellfish, oysters, scallops, or prawns. Richer Chardonnays work wonderfully with sautéed or roast chicken, pork, or even veal with sides like wild mushrooms. In conjunction, plates with creamy or buttery sauces or delicious autumnal vegetables like pumpkin or squash are all sensible approaches to pairing with this exceptionally versatile grape.

Viognier: Works with similar dishes as richer Chardonnays do, but it can handle a little more spice. Since Viognier has a pronounced florality ripe fruity characteristics, try it with stir fries and spicy chicken wings.

Riesling: Dry styles of Rieslings pair best with oysters. The high acid and ripe citrus notes compliment the salinity and tanginess of the mignonette that's usually served with the oysters as a traditional accoutrement. Try these wines with delicate fish too like prawn/shrimp, crab, lobster, or lightly smoked fish like trout and salmon. The sweeter styles of Riesling pair well with spicy dishes that are common in Asian influences and are good with duck as far as proteins are concerned.

Gewürztraminer: This exotically pronounced white isn't to everyones liking but it really shows its nature with spicy food, especially Thai cuisine and spiced Indian curries.

Pinot Grigio/Soave: Most dry Italian whites tend to be elegant, crisp, and easy drinking therefore, they are best paired with seafood based pastas, seafood risotto, simple cheeses, and grilled fish.

Pinot Gris: This is the same varietal as Pinot Grigio, however, it is called Pinot Gris in France. Depending on the style of wine being made, producers will label the grape as Grigio if they chose to do a lighter more acidic style and Gris if the wine is richer, fuller, and more ripe. Since Pinot Gris tends to have a subtle sweetness, it often works better with lightly spiced chicken or pork dishes.

rouges / Reds

Pinot Noir: With young fruity Pinots, duck is often the best pairing but it works well with roasted turkey, chicken, and even seared salmon. Older Pinots are better with game birds like quail and pheasant.

Pinotage, Zinfandel, Shiraz: These wines are best paired with your heartiest meals - rich stews, braises, and tagines, or even with a funky variety of cheeses like blue, aged cheddar, and feta. You can even pair a very oily fish (better if its beet cured) with a young fruity and peppery Australian Shiraz.

Cabernet Sauvignon/Merlot: Since these wines tend to be very full bodied and juicy, you can't go wrong with a steak or grilled lamb chops. If you're having a blend of the two varietals as is commonplace in Bordeaux, and it's an older vintage, keep the sauces on the lighter side because the natural meat juices are the best accompaniment.

Rioja and other Spanish reds like Priorat: Spanish reds have come a long way and have changed faster than you can say Gazpacho. The styles vary from their soft bodied, gentle tannins, and their delicate fruit that you'll find in Reservas (paired perfectly with lamb, sheep's cheeses, and spiced stews) to styles that are heavier in body and can work well with robust flavours - like a Cabernet or Sangiovese.

Malbec/Syrah: These spicy and fruity wines work well with red meats like peperry steaks and lamb pastas, but can also take on more robust flavours like traditional barbecue rubs and marinades. Don't be afraid to try some spicy sauces since these full bodied wines are powerful enough to withstand some heat.

vins doux / Sweet Wines

Sauternes: Try these deliciously sweet, noble rot wines with incredibly rich Foie Gras, eclairs, or even apple pie with whip cream. These wines have lots of acidity, refreshing the sweetness from your palate and making you want to take another sip... or 5.

Port: The rich chocolaty, fig, and prune like flavours that you'll find in port are classic with a decadent chocolate cake, or, if you're anything like me, a whole box of chocolates too.

Moscato D'asti: These delicious and juicy semi sparkling wines have subtle toasty and bready notes that are compliment with its natural peach, apricot, and baked apple flavours that go well with profiteroles, creme brûlée, and vanilla ice cream with warms poached pears.